


All in Our Head

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Light Angst, Mind Sex, Multi, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary (and story) contains spoilers for The Name of the Doctor.</p><p>***</p><p>Immediately after The Name of the Doctor, Clara goes into shock after thousands of her echoes crowd into her mind at once. River and the Doctor must act fast to save her...and once they do, the orgy can begin. </p><p>Comic relief cameos by the Paternoster Gang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All In Her Head

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at http://eleventy-kink.livejournal.com/942.html?thread=3992750&
> 
> Chapter 2 occurs before Chapter 1, though I am putting them in this order for a reason. But it won't bother me if you prefer to read them in chronological order.

The Doctor carried Clara back to the TARDIS. Jenny and Vastra clung numbly to each other, which was fine, since he wanted the potato anyway. “Nurse Strax! Accompany me to the medical bay!” Phrasing the request as an order had the desired effect, and the Sontaran kept up with him effortlessly despite the difference in stature. 

“Sir? What is wrong with the boy?”

“No time to explain, Straxy. Just need you to keep an eye on our vital signs while I duck in her head and poke around a bit, eh?” He was almost certain the Sontaran was physically incapable of piercing his false bonhomie. 

“Very good, sir,” Strax replied as the Doctor punched the last button and went into a trance.

***

He awoke inside Clara's mind, panicked. Right, he thought, should be thousands of Claras running around her mental landscape. Got to help her box some of them away before she burns out. “Clara?”

“Hello, Sweetie!” came the unexpected reply. His eyes bulged as he climbed the nearest rise.

“River?” Running into River when he wasn't planning on meeting her was, by now, too commonplace to warrant much thought. Even an unintended encounter with a naked River Song wasn't that rare. But River Song with no clothes inside his companion's brain, getting it on with about a dozen copies of the girl...well, count him among those who didn't find married life boring. 

What he assumed to be the original Clara waved at him from where she stood on a boulder. “Hello! We, um, can explain. Honest.”

River sat up, and the other Claras with her. “You see, we had had a mental link when she went in, and I thought she might need a bit of help after what she went through. Turns out I was right, but we've mostly gotten things down to manageable levels by now.”

“But it's only been a few minutes,” the Doctor pointed out.

“As Vastra put it best, 'time travel has always been possible in dreams,'” River countered. “We've been here a little while, and Clara asked how she could best repay me.”

“It was either this or eight-dimension Yahtzee,” Clara replied. “And we knew you'd be along fairly soon.”

“I love eight-dimension Yahtzee!” He began rummaging through his pockets. “Hang on, I'm sure I've got some hyperdice in here somewhere.”

“Husband?” River said as five of the echoes advanced upon him. “Shut it.”

“Shutting it,” he managed as a whirlwind of hands stripped him of his clothes and three of the remaining echoes disappeared in flashes of light, then two more. 

“We thought you deserved a bit of a reward as well,” Clara said, and the Doctor laid back in the soft grass as four echoes began putting their mouths to very good use all over his body, thoughtfully leaving open his view of the rest of the proceedings. “And at some point you're going to give me a proper, non-mysterious explanation of what happened a few minutes ago. But not just now,” she said, and one of the echoes vanished just as he exploded in her mouth and another hopped on to replace her. “But I'm also taking a bit of a reward. Mostly your cock.”

“Language,” he gasped, as she ground against him.

“And you're going to keep coming for me until I've had my fill,” she continued as though he hadn't said a word.

“I assume you don't mind, wife?” River's only response was a hoarse groan as an echo's tongue flitted over the pucker of her asshole. “That'd be a nooohhh....” the quip stretched out into a full-throated curse as the fresh echo strung a second orgasm onto the first, and vanished in her turn. As if by clockwork, a third echo pounced upon him into a sixty-nine. His hands, finally free with no-one left to guard them, cupped her tanned, athletic arse and pulled her folds down to his lips. The echo groaned in unison with the original, who had two echoes plying their mouths upon her crotch as they fingered each other. All three echoes vanished within seconds of each other, and the Doctor was left with a brief respite.

Then River straddled him. “If you don't mind,” she said, “I wouldn't mind a goodbye shag.” She turned to a blushing Clara, now alone on her rocky perch. “Come here and shut his mouth with that delicious cunt of yours. He always was terrible at goodbyes, anyway,” but tears were in her eyes despite her jovial tone. Besides, she thought, we don't need our mouths to communicate. Not here. She laughed and traced a damp fingertip around Clara's nipple. You, me, the girls you travel with...all we need are some handcuffs and that magic box of yours, husband.

Is this goodbye, then? He asked, tongue laving at Clara's clit. 

Maybe, she thought as she bucked. 

Is it, Clara?

I just put those memories away, she thought between moans. Don't quite have the focus to get them out again. Oh, yes, there.

Is it, River?

Spoilers, she thought as they all rode the same cresting wave. 

***

They lay, lazily tangled, on the gentle hills of Clara's mind, not daring to move or speak, and only barely to breathe; even that felt like gravest transgression. At last, the Doctor spoke. “If this is goodbye,” he began, and somehow his hand clutched his long-discarded bowtie. “Then goodbye, my truest love, and I shall always remember you.” He pressed the strip of cloth into her hand as he kissed her.

“Until we meet again,” she whispered, and kissed his smooth forehead. “It was nice to meet you at last, Clara,” she added. “Though I don't think this will be your last adventure with me.” They smiled. “I suppose I don't have to worry about spoilers with you.” She kissed them each again. “Now we must be off; we've all got our lives to lead.”

***

The Doctor awoke to blinding light in his eyes, a sticky sensation between his legs, and Strax hovering over him in a surgeon's get-up. “Ah, there you are, Doctor! Just in time for the operation.”

The Doctor's eyes went wide. “Operation? Is Clara hurt?”

“No, the boy is in excellent health.” The Sontaran gestured over to Clara, who was mostly-conscious on the next bed over; she waved muzzily at him. “It is your nether appendage which appears to have malfunctioned, maintaining a hardened state and emitting a strange fluid in alarming amounts.” The Doctor giggled; he'd had the world's biggest wet dream. The laughter was soon truncated. “I was about to perform an emergency amputation,” Strax announced.

“No!” he cried, springing up and concealing his erection with both hands. “I mean, I just need a shower. Nice, long, shower.” 

Strax followed him into the corridor. “Very good, sir. I might recommend,” Strax was interrupted by twin female shrieks, followed by a very male yell, “Not that bathroom, sir.” 

“Bit more notice next time, Straxy.” He pouted. “Keep an eye on Clara for me while I clean up, eh?”

“Mm,” Clara said, fumbling her way into the hall. “I'll come with you. Always telling the kiddies to clean up their own messes, and I certainly helped make this one.”

“You okay?”

“I am now,” she replied, steadying herself with his arm. “Lead the way, chin boy.”


	2. All In Our Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what were River and Clara getting up to before the Doctor arrived? This one is a bit more surreal and a bit more lesbian than the last one.

So many Doctors, Clara thought. Tall, short, and in-between; muscular, skinny, and portly; blond, brown, black, and white. And I saved them all, every last one of them. Chin Boy, you owe me one something awful, she decided. Then she blacked out.

***

She awoke on her back, facing up into blue sky, with soft, grassy earth beneath her. “Probably not Hell, then.”

“No,” a chorus of familiar voices answered her. Clara jumped up to find herself surrounded. But the hilly, rocky landscape was populated by thousands of echoes of herself. “Isn't the saying that Hell is other people?” they asked. “Just us in here.” They shared a laugh which Clara joined a bit uneasily. 

It was starting to come back to her. Saving the Doctor. Getting fragmented along his timeline. Getting saved by the Doctor. So now there were lots and lots of...her. All in different clothes, some with scars or tattoos or piercings, but all the same face, same spirit, over and over. It was a bit dizzying, really. “Is the world closing in around me, or is it just me?”

“Just you,” the echoes replied as they set upon her. “Bite her, claw her, scratch her,” they murmured. “Pull her, taste her, tease her,” the echoes continued. “Strip her, eat her, tear her apart,” they chanted, and began pulling off her clothes. Clara could only pull up her arms to protect her face as countless fingers reached for her.

***

“There you are,” a different voice said at last, and in the blink of an eye and a puff of smoke, friendly hands buoyed her up and drew her close. “Things are getting to a critical point; there are too many active echoes fighting for control. Too much longer, and they'll permanently splinter your consciousness."

“Right,” Clara said, managing to sound confident as she brushed away the remaining tatters of her clothes. If traveling with the Doctor had taught her anything, it was how to roll with the punches. “River, was it? What do we do?”

The older woman stood behind her and took Clara's hands in her own. “Picture a city, filled with houses and apartments and hotels, a city of the mind. You need to put each of these echoes into their own little home where they can live and you can visit if you like, or if a memory gets triggered by something that happens to you. But you have to remember, you're the queen of the city. Right now, they all want to be queen.”

“Queen Clara? I could get used to that.” Clara grinned and turned to an echo in military fatigues. “Let's start with her, I guess.”

River took her hands and spread them up and down. River's touch was warm, comforting. “Just picture her in the barracks, then. That's good,” she whispered, and she brought Clara's hands together slowly, and the echo vanished in a spot of light. “Not bad for a first go. It'll get faster and easier with practice.” She kissed her on the cheek.

It'd better, Clara thought. “Would you kiss me for each one I do? Positive reinforcement. Seems to work for the kids.”

“I'd love to,” River laughed.

***

It took them quite some time, but they worked steadily (pausing occasionally for proper snogs), banishing echoes in fishnets and microskirts to dingy flats and centaur-echoes to a different pasture and echoes in loincloths and tattoos to a tidy little jungle. All the while, River pressed kisses onto Clara's skin. 

“Is that what I'll look like when I'm forty?” she asked of a middle-aged version of herself.

“I'm what you'll look like when you're eighty—medical science has gotten a bit better.”

“I'm a fox,” Clara announced, delighted, banishing her to a charming cottage. She winked. “So are you,” she told River, kissing her.

“More to do yet,” River told her. “Still so many...” They kept moving through the crowd: schoolgirl echoes to their dorms, echoes in bikinis to beachside bungalows, echoes in prim skirt-suits to upscale high-rises. “There we go,” River breathed, lips ghosting down Clara's arm. There were fewer than twenty of them now. “Down to where we can take a proper break, don't you think?” She took her arm seductively with one hand and slid the other hand down between Clara's legs.

“I think I need a proper, proper break,” Clara said with a laugh. “You have fun with the girls,” she said, crawling up on a rock. “I'll watch and...” what was the right word for the way she could detect what the others were sensing? “...listen.” She'd gotten better at it now that there were fewer signals to deal with. She sprawled out and soaked up the sun. It's not like she could get sunburned inside her own mind...could she? The breeze licked its way across her skin...or was that River? Mm, definitely River. God, the Doctor had excellent taste in women. One hand meandered between her legs and she smiled. Her focus flashed from one echo to the next as the orgy began.

***

Between orgasms, Clara rolled over onto her belly to watch. There was River, the ringmistress of the circus, letting the remaining echoes swirl over and around her. Clara focused on one, and vanished her in a flash of light. The others shifted easily to fill the gap in the rhythm. She laughed and beckoned one of her echoes to her. “I want to taste you,” she said boldly. “And I want you to taste me.”

The echo smirked. “I think we can work with that,” and the two slipped easily into a sixty-nine. Mmm, they thought, and lapped at each other eagerly.

Clara banished the echo when they were finished and hopped up to stretch her legs. “Clara!” a male voice called. 

“Finally!” she laughed. “I'd have thought a massive lesbian orgy would have been a better draw.” River let out a vague moan of agreement. Clara flexed and watched the lot of them go at it as delicious ideas began to swirl in her mind. This was going to be fun...

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after Time of the Doctor, but before Series 8, so it is deliberately ambiguous as to the ultimate fate of River Song, because I don't know. Dead and gone? Returned as Tasha Lem (as some people have speculated)? Still kicking around the Library as a data ghost? Reincarnated with a fresh batch of regenerations? No clue. Your guess is as good as mine.


End file.
